His Shoes
"You don’t know a person until you’ve walked a mile in their
shoes.” My dad used to say. I would look
down at his shoes, with the broken zipper that use to be snug around his ankles
and the duct tape barely holding his old worn boots together. He should have
gotten rid of them long ago, but it showed what kind of man he is.
He was.
Stubborn. Determined. Selfless. Hard working.
I don’t have to wear his shoes for a mile to know what kind
of person he was. I just have to look at them and know.
(100 word count)
